Written in Our Hearts
by weregonnafindit525
Summary: Prince Angel is getting married. Collins is sad. Mark just proposed to Maureen. Maureen is confused. And Roger has no idea he's being seduced by the Princess. Oh, and Angel is marrying Joanne! {**re-upload because I have no idea why I deleted this in the first place}
1. Chapter 1

"So, if you… Hey, Angel, are you listening to me?"

Collins looked at the young prince worriedly. It wasn't like him not to pay attention during their private tutoring sessions.

"Huh?" Angel looked up from the splotch of ink on a piece of paper he'd been focusing on for the past fifteen minutes. "Oh, sorry… I just… Sorry."

"Well, if you're not feeling well, we could continue with the lesson tomorrow, if that's what you want," his teacher offered.

"No, no," Angel insisted. "I'm okay. Just a little… tired."

"Alright."

Collins sighed involuntarily. Initially, the thought of being the prince's private tutor wasn't something that made him proud. He had agreed only to bring in the money. With his best friend causing trouble at every corner and their other friends failing to hold onto any jobs, he didn't have much of a choice.

Mark was a painter, but he had to practically scourge the earth for things to use as paint. Roger was a poet, but his lack of inspiration for the past year had caused them much distress. They had both been very successful once, but since the kingdom went bankrupt, nobody wanted to waste money on things they only wanted, not needed. Since then, they were on and off working for Alison Grey of the Grey Dress Emporium.

Maureen, though, was another story. As rebellious as the teacher himself, it was only natural that they were best friends. However, she was much more… pronounced. He often had to pull her out of sticky situations. How Mark, knowing his personality, could put up with her as a girlfriend for over three years amused him.

And then there was that gypsy girl who showed up every once in a while. He couldn't even remember her name, sometimes. It was something similar to the princess', starting with an M… Miri, was it? No, Mimi. It was definitely Mimi. She would appear about twice a week, sometimes staying the night in the tiny room they rented of a building, other times not.

After a while, though, Collins' opinion of the royal family (well, the prince, at least) completely turned around.

While studying science in the library one day, the prince, thirteen at the time, said suddenly, "You can just call me Angel, you know? I'd actually _prefer_ it over Your Highness…"

At sixteen, of course Collins complied. And of course nobody knew about it. If the queen had caught him addressing her son in such a manner, he would be fired for sure. But then again, Angel always seemed to come to his rescue. He'd pulled so many things at the palace (more than half of them unintentional, but still) that it was a usual thing for the prince to beg his mother not to fire "the greatest teacher in the world," in his words.

The first time happened shortly after Collins arrived, only fifteen at the time. He'd forgotten what exactly he had done, but Angel had come rushing in, shouting that he was "a million times better than that stupid Mr. Grey."

The following week, the queen had grudgingly told Collins to treat Angel more strictly for insulting her advisor. He ignored this. He found it ridiculous that one moment she wanted him fired, and the next, she wanted him to control her son.

Angel proved to be a quick learner. Compared to Maureen, that was. And he also proved to be one of the most generous and caring people he had ever met. He knew all of his friends: Mark, Roger, Maureen… He always found ways to sneak food or other resources to the starving artists, but of them all, he asked the most about Mimi, despite the fact that Collins rarely saw her.

"Collins…" Angel said just as he shut the textbook. "Can you take me out of the palace? Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Collins was surprised. It wasn't that they hadn't done this before. Angel just liked to plan ahead. He would always get a week's notice. "Why?"

Angel shrugged. "Just take me, please?" He pouted. Over time, he found that pouting could get Mr. Collins to do almost anything.

"I really don't see why not," he replied. "Tomorrow it is."

"Oh, thank you, Collins!" exclaimed Angel, hugging him in a way less than masculine. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm going to go get ready now, okay?"

Collins knew about the prince's… feminine ways. He was considerably to blame for the habits, as he had first suggested the cross-dressing when Angel had wanted to leave the castle. It had been a joke at first, but when the prince found himself enjoying the game of dress-up, he knew it was his fault.

He didn't have a problem with that, though. Angel made a… beautiful woman. The first of that type he'd ever felt anything for.

But it was no use, he knew.

"Geez, we've done this before, Angel," Collins told him. "Why're you so excited this time?"

Angel sighed, deciding there was no getting out of this.

"I'm getting married."

"Oh." Collins tried to hide the disappointment in his voice. _Stop it, Thomas_ , he told himself. _You can't afford to think like that. It's not happening!_

"To Princess Joanne," Angel continued. "It's all we can do since the kingdom went bankrupt. It's not that I don't _like_ her… I mean, I might. I don't know. I mean… God, I don't even get to meet her before the wedding! I might… never see any of our friends again…"

"Oh, Ang… Look, we'll all go to the Life tomorrow," Collins offered. "Get drunk. Do whatever. Us, Mo, Mark, and Roger. And Mimi, too, if she decides to show up."

"Okay," Angel said, a smile returning to his face. "Okay! Thank you so much, Collins! Miranda's going to help me pick what to wear. Oh, it's going to be so _exciting_!" He gave his teacher another hug, this one less lingering but leaving him yearning.

As Angel pranced out the room to find his sister, Collins sighed, gathering his things and getting ready to leave. The prince was such a tease.


	2. Chapter 2

"What?! Look, if you're gonna kill innocent cows just to test out your lame-ass product, you might as well—"

"I told you, the death of anything has a _very_ low—"

"Yeah, but it still _exists_ , doesn't it? There's still a chance of—"

Maureen Johnson was cut off by an arm encircling her waist and pulling her aside.

"Mo, as much as you love cows, you gotta let this one go," Collins said. "You don't know those people like I do, and trust me, you don't want to."

Maureen grinned and rolled her eyes. "What?"

"Huh?"

"You obviously wanted to tell me something. So spill."

"Mo, what's wrong?" Her best friend almost laughed.

"What?" It was Maureen's turn to be confused.

"Girl, you're usually kickin' and screamin' when I take you from those assholes who ain't worth your time. What's up?"

She groaned. "Mark proposed to me, okay?"

Collins let out a low whistle. "Well, wedding bells are ringing. _Everywhere_ ," he grimaced.

"What, you jealous?"

"Wha- that wasn't even…" The philosopher sighed. "Okay, the prince is getting married."

"Oh."

Maureen remembered the time her best friend had accidentally let it slip that he… So maybe the word wasn't "liked". Maybe it really was "loved". But he was drunk, and Maureen had been the only one there to witness his confession.

"I shouldn't even have thought about it in the first place," Collins said, shaking his head.

Slinging an arm around his shoulders, Maureen tried to comfort him. "C'mon, babe, let's go back to the loft. Roger said he has something important to ask you."

"Really? Roger?" His eyebrows were raised in amusement.

"Yup. No lie."

The two walked closely in silence, ignoring the strange looks from those who knew Mark had just proposed to Maureen.

"Took him long enough," Collins suddenly blurted.

"What was that?"

"How long has it been? Three years?" he chuckled.

Though Mark had once been very much of a ladies' man, Maureen was the one who caught his attention. During the kingdom's prosperous days, when he had been a blossoming realism painter, a horde of girls followed him wherever he went. He flirted with them all, but Maureen, always out of the mainstream, was "the roommate's best friend who captured his eye without even wanting to."

Many women followed him around, still, but only the bold girl who impressed him with a spectacular performance was truly in his heart. And she loved him back, of course. But Maureen had been questioning whether they felt the exact same way about each other… far from recently.

"Actually, I kinda wanted to talk about that, too, best friend," she said quietly.

"You didn't sound too happy when you told me," Collins commented, his eyes wandering but never meeting hers.

" _Best friend_ ," Maureen emphasized. "Look at me."

Collins turned, bewildered. They knew they were best friends. They never had to say it. The only time they exaggerated this fact was when they needed support, the kind they could only get from each other.

"Shit. What's goin' on?"

"I don't want to marry him," she stated simply.

Collins frowned. "You know, he loves you a lot…"

"I know. And I love him, too. I just don't think it's… like _that_ anymore."

"So you're…"

"Yup!" Maureen confirmed, popping the 'p' at the end of the word. "Just thought I'd get it off my chest. Let's go!" She giggled as she took Collins' arm and dragged him down the street.

"Aren't you gonna talk about it, Mo?"

"Nope!" Another popped 'p'.

"Whatcha gonna do about it?"

"Not gonna talk about it! La-la-la-la-la! Nope!"

"Maureen, I think it's pretty important—"

"I'll figure it out, okay?!"

Collins looked at her in disbelief. No, Maureen Johnson never snapped. Not at him. Pursing his lips, he stopped walking. He knew he would be treading on thin ice if he asked what he was about to ask, but as Mimi always said, "No day but today."

"You… gonna at least tell me what you said to him?" The answer should have been obvious, but he wanted to make sure.

"Yes!" Maureen finally screamed. "Yes! I fucking said yes!"

"Hey, it's okay, just scream it out." Collins placed a hand on her back.

"I'm sorry for yelling," she mumbled. "I'm just… ugh, so confused right now! If I can't figure out who I am soon, I'll just go with it. Maybe it's who I'm meant to be anyway. I've still got some time to get shit sorted out, but let's just forget about all of that until I do. For now, we've gotta plan Prince Angel's bachelor party!"

Collins stared at her.

"Except it won't only be men! Just a party for him before he has to marry some bitch from whatever land."

Her friend smiled. It was good to have Maureen back. And she was right. Her problems could be solved later. Now, their focus was to make Prince Angel's last days as prince sparkle.

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 **AN: Thanks so much for reading! By the way, this story is pre-written up to chapter 6, so after that, please expect less frequent updates :) Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

"What else did he say?" Angel demanded to know, her legs kicking the air as she lay on her stomach in her sister's bed.

"…and he called me a kid… He told me I could never replace his dead girlfr—"

"Mimi!" Angel whined. "I asked a question about Collins!"

Miranda sighed, huffing, "Would it kill you to listen to me for once?!"

At this, her brother—sister— immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry, I'm just—"

"Completely and utterly in love with the man?" Miranda teased. "Yeah, I know. And it's your fault you didn't do what I did!"

In the castle, she was known as Princess Miranda. To Angel when they were alone and to her "out-of-castle" friends, she was Mimi. The name was picked up when Angel first decided she wanted to get out of the palace at the age of fourteen. Twelve at the time, Miranda wanted nothing but the same.

Whilst Angel made it clear to their bohemian friends that she was the prince but wished to be treated like the rest of them, Miranda's royal status was a secret. She completely transformed the prim and proper princess of Alphableu into the wild and daring girl that even Collins was unable to recognize during her visits. "Mimi's" hair, instead of being done up in an elegant bun, was a crazy mass of curls surrounding a clean, make-up-free face—aside from some powder to give the illusion of dark circles.

Miranda also snuck out more often. Angel's visits were always accompanied by her tutor, but her sister took advantage of the fact that she was the younger sibling and therefore received less attention. She didn't mind it at all. She was rarely the first choice for anything life-changing, she didn't have all the responsibilities… Life was good. She escaped and joined her friends as much as she could, but made sure she was always there for her sister when she needed it.

"I thought they needed to know the truth," Angel said. "That their prince isn't who they might think he is."

Miranda nodded, understanding. "But wait, what about Collins?"

"I dunno, Maureen says he exaggerates everything he says about me…"

The princess giggled. It _was_ true. That was another benefit of nobody knowing that they were siblings and hence, were each others' closest confidants. Collins would talk non-stop about what a great student Angel was, how fast she learned, all without the knowledge that Mimi would later report everything to the prince at their nightly gabfest.

"So… about your _engagement_ …" she began.

"Ugh, to a totalstranger," Angel cut in. "I mean, I don't think I'll _hate_ her, you know? I'd just… much rather meet her _before_ the ceremony. Not to mention I'm absolutely in _love_ with someone else…"

Miranda frowned.

"Being in love sucks," the to-be king concluded.

"Well, that's only because you're getting married and don't know if he feels the same way! And I'm pretty sure he _loves_ you!"

"Meems, loving someone is a _lot_ different from being _in love_ ," Angel told her. "We all _love_ each other. I just so happen to also be _in love_ with Collins!" She buried her face in a pillow, screaming.

Miranda patted her back. "Oh, Angel, he's _head over heels_ for you. He's always—"

"Okay, let's talk about Roger instead!" Angel interrupted, not wanting to hear anything that might make her want to elope… or whatever.

"Oh, don't tell me you still—"

"No! That was a really, really long time ago!"

Her first time out of the palace, Angel hadn't met Roger. Her sister had hung around and met him, and was sure he was perfect for her. Roger had become Angel's first crush until she found out that it wasn't their love for each other they shared, but for music. Of course they'd stayed friends even after Roger met April. Roger would write the lyrics and Angel would write the music, and they would sing together. It was their thing.

Roger never knew about the crush. And, especially after April's suicide, Angel didn't see it was necessary to tell him. Since then, he'd stopped asking her to write music for him. Whenever she gave him a new beat, he would rarely finish the rhymes to go with it.

"Uh… So, how is he?"

Grimacing, Miranda replied, "Not getting much better. I tried to help him, I really did, but he just kept pushing me away. But, uh, I know… I know he's trying to write songs again."

Angel smiled inside, but pretended to be insulted. "What?! Without _me_? How could he?!"

The sisters shared a laugh.

"Well, he'd better show me tomorrow! I can't wait! You gotta help me pick something out."

"Okay!" Miranda nodded eagerly. She got up and walked to the wardrobe at the corner of her room. It was a big thing, a thousand dresses from the Grey Dress Emporium adorning the fancy hangers. Opening it and reaching deep within, she said, "Okay, this is the old boring one you _always_ wear…"

"Well, I kind of don't want to come off as 'the prince wearing girls' clothes,'" Angel replied sarcastically. "Nothing too extravagant, okay?"

"Exactly," her sister said. "And since you're so much _fatter_ than me—"

"Hey!"

"—you can only wear, like, ten percent of what I have. And only ten percent of _that_ won't scream 'I'm the freaking prince.' So that means… We're gonna _make_ a dress!"

"Whoa, I never actually thought of that!" Angel exclaimed. "It'll look like I went through Grey's scraps while still being _gorgeous_!"

"Yes, oh, my gosh, yes! Let's rip up my dresses I that I only ever wear _once_ just for the stupid balls!"

"Yay! Thank you so much, Meems. I love you."

"I love you, too."

As the two shared a hug, they didn't notice that someone was throwing rocks at the window until…

 _Crash!_

A boot flew past their faces and glass shattered at the sill.

"Shit! I'm so sorry. Oh my God. Shit."

"Um, who's there?" Miranda moved to open the window and peer outside.

A young, dark-skinned woman was standing seven feet below. "I, um, uh… I'm Princess Joanne. Look, I'm really sorry about your window. I'll pay for it and everything, I promise. Just… is Prince Angel there? I'm sorry, I just—"

"Yeah, sh… he's right here…" Miranda turned and whispered, "Ang, get over here 'cause I'm really freaked out right now."

* * *

 **A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't been giving this story the attention it deserves! But here's chapter 3 & I hope y'all enjoy!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm pretty sure the readers from earlier have given up on this story! But I've been so busy for the past year (2016) I forgot I actually wrote up to chapter 6... :( So sorry.. But I hope new readers can enjoy the rest of this story, now that it's back on recently updated :)**

* * *

"Evening, bitches!"

"Collins, Mo!" Roger greeted from his place in a chair. A guitar rested on his lap.

"Maureen, baby…" Mark moved from his easel to give his fiancé a kiss. "I painted us… on our wedding."

"Aw, baby, that's sweet…"

Maureen smiled sadly at the painting. She wore a Grey dress— one of their most popular designs. They made them often, remembering the seams better each time. The wedding took place in a beautiful church, wreaths hanging on the walls. There were a lot of guests: the prince, Mimi, Collins, Roger, a _lot_ of townspeople… Even Benny, their landlord, and Alison were there. Maureen knew she'd never be able to experience this. It was just a fairytale wedding. But Mark had painted it so well that she could almost feel herself standing there, getting married, with everybody there to watch…

Sensing that his best friend was feeling uncomfortable, Collins cleared his throat. "Uh, Angel's coming tomorrow," he said. "Just thought I'd let you guys know that. Hope you guys are up for going to the Life tomorrow."

"She's getting married!" Maureen interjected. "Being the superhero she is, she has to get married and save the kingdom!"

"She is?" Roger asked.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "And Collins here is really, really sad."

"Maureen!"

"They had to find out eventually!"

Roger let out a good-hearted laugh. "Man, we already knew about that a long time ago/"

"You _did_?" The best friends' eyes widened.

"Man, you turned down _Maureen_ ," Roger pointed out.

"Yeah!" Mark agreed. "Wait, _what_?!"

"Pookie, it was a long time ago," Maureen told him, much more defensively than usual.

Collins laughed nervously, deciding to change the subject. "So, Rog, what'd you wanna tell me? Mo said…"

"Oh, um…" Roger began. "I'm writing songs again." He liked the thought of calling his poems songs. That was what they were, after all.

"Hey, man, that's great! I wanna hear one!"

"Uh-huh, no," Roger said, grinning. "Angel first."

"Aw, come on! What's it called?"

"No, no, it's always been Angel and that's how it's gonna stay. I was gonna ask you to bring her over so she could help me give it music, but I guess you already are."

"Alright." Collins put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'm proud of you." And he was. He was so happy for the poet.

"Thanks." Roger plucked a random string and sighed.

Mark glanced at him. "Well, I gotta head over to Aliso—"

"—Muffy," he cut in.

"I gotta go to work," Mark finished. "I, uh, didn't finish a few… dresses… last night. I really can't risk getting fired again." It was awkward talking about his job at the dress emporium when what he did didn't exactly reflect his personality. "What about you guys?" He looked to Maureen and Roger.

"Sure, I think Muffy got a dress stuck on a mannequin and needs me to get it off."

Maureen giggled at this. "I'm done with everything, though," she lied.

Collins raised an eyebrow. His best friend might skip work and force one of the boys to cover for her, but she never lied to her friends about finished or unfinished tasks. And he knew Maureen was a procrastinator when it came to working for their landlord's (and ex-friend's) wife.

"Uh… okay," Mark muttered, putting on a thick overcoat. He pecked Maureen on the cheek before disappearing out the door with Roger, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

As soon as they were gone, Maureen rushed into the comfort of Collins' arms.

"Mo, you're okay," he whispered, holding her close. "Don't cry, girl. You're okay." His brow creased as Maureen clung to his shirt and sobbed.

"I'll break his heart," she whispered. "I'll break him."

"Maureen…"

She unlatched herself from his body and made her way to the easel Mark had been working on. Tracing Painting Mark's form, she reminded herself to hate her every being.

"I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself…"

"Don't, Maureen," Collins commanded almost angrily. "Don't you _dare_ hate yourself."

"I can't help it," she breathed, her hand trailing down Painting Maureen's eye-popping gown. "Tell him for me, Collins. Please?"

"Hell no, I ain't telling Mark his fiancé wants to call off the wedding 'cause she's a lesbian!"

"Collins." Maureen glared at him.

"'m sorry! I'm sorry, Mo. I am." Collins crossed his arms. "It's not my place to tell anyone anything. It's something you gotta face on your own. And I realize how stupid that sounds, but it's true. C'mere."

Maureen found herself enveloped once again in her best friend's strong hold. She'd never in her life felt so hopeless, so out of control, so… lost. But she knew Collins would be there to guide her, whether it was by singing her a soothing lullaby or by burning her favorite dress. Whatever it took to get her mind off of things, he would do it.

"He wouldn't get _mad_ , but he's so fragile… He just wants true love, and I can't give it to him… He's got all these girls fawning over him, but he's so convinced _I'm_ the one."

Collins let her ramble on, all the while devising a plan to make sure two of the most important people in his life didn't see their problems as reasons to stop living life.


	5. Chapter 5

Angel panicked. She was in one of her sister's larger pink nightgowns and _Princess Joanne_ was practically at her doorstep.

"Ask her what she wants!" she whispered loudly.

"Uhh, you?" Miranda tried.

"Duh, I know that! What does she want from me?" She cowered in the corner of the room, hoping Joanne hadn't already seen her.

Miranda leaned over the windowsill again. "Um, Angel's being weird right now, so could I… Maybe I could…"

Joanne laughed. "I saw him."

 _Shit._

Angel groaned audibly, stepping out of the shadow that hid her. "Well, this is me."

The princess outside cackled. "So the rumors are true."

"Rumors?!" Miranda demanded. "What rumors?"

"It's okay." Angel looked outside. "Yes, princess?"

Joanne shifted. "I just wanted to get to know you before the… you know, wedding…"

Angel hesitated. "Well, I could come down and, um…" Damn. Being a gentleman was _hard_. She rarely socialized at the events she was forced to attend. Maybe she knew how to dance with a random lady, but she didn't know how to communicate with the girl she was going to spend the rest of her life with.

"There's a ladder," Joanne said, shaking her head.

"Um, right." _So she's not like the rest of them. That's nice to know._

The ladder was for when Miranda decided to leave or come home. Conveniently, her window was located on the side that there were no guards. That combined with her flexibility and Mimi's ragged appearance made in easy to both escape and break in at any time, especially at night, without anyone seeing her. She blended in the dark so well, and was fast and stealthy enough that not even the guys at the east telescope could spot her.

"Then… come on up, I guess," Miranda called out, still recovering from her shock. _Princess Joanne_ wanted to get to know her _sister_. That said a lot.

As Joanne ascended the ladder, Angel reached to help her through.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

"How did you get here, honey?" Angel wanted to know.

"Uh, I kinda forced Steve to take me out tonight," the princess explained. "If we don't get back by tomorrow morning, he might get fired."

"Oh, well, he could always work here," Miranda offered genuinely. "We're practically family now, right, Ang?"

Angel smiled. "Yeah. A family…" Looking around, she grinned. "I love you guys. Even if you're my annoying baby sister—" She pointed at Miranda "And even if I just met you." She looked to her future queen. "In friend ways. Group hug?"

Joanne looked reluctant but followed suit as Miranda leaned into Angel. The prince's sister shook her head. Ever since they met Mark and were introduced to group hugs, she'd been all for initiating them.

"So… you and Steve…" Angel stepped back, fumbling for the right words. "I mean, because I totally know how you feel." Well, not _totally_ … Collins. He was so smart, so nice, so hot… And probably completely oblivious.

"Well, then you should know that… if what they said was true… you'd know I don't roll that way." Joanne grinned sheepishly. "If they're not true then I'm sorry if I freaked you out."

"Sugar, don't worry! The rumors… whatever they are… they're probably true. I'm gonna introduce myself again, 'kay? My name is Angel, I like boys, and sometimes I like to wear dresses!"

Miranda giggled. "Your turn!"

"My name's Joanne, I like girls, and sometimes I like to wear pants."

"Yay, we're a family!" Miranda exclaimed.

Angel nodded. "Now, I'm going to be a man and force my wife to help me make my dress."

"I'd love to," Joanne giggled. "Is this dress for a particular…"

As Angel blushed, Miranda jumped up and down, shouting, "Yes! Yes! Yes it is!"

"Shut up, Mimi, It's for my last day before I marry a _girl_!"

Joanne pretended to be insulted. "Excuse me? Should I be offended?"

Angel gave her another hug, muttering, "Not at all. Now that I've met you, not at all…"

She liked this girl. She wasn't what she had expected. And she felt guilty for ever thinking otherwise. She'd fit in so well with their group of oddballs…

She suddenly pulled away. "You know what? You should go with us tomorrow. Our friends are having this huge party at this really nice bar place."

"You have friends outside the castle?!"

"We're very lucky," Angel admitted. "We have disguises. Everyone knows who I am, but not Miranda. She's Mimi there. And, uh, she always goes out by herself and my… tutor… escorts me. She gets to go more often with that freedom."

"That's amazing," Joanne said. "I'd really like that, but Steve's got a daughter and a wife… I don't want him to lose his job."

"Like I said, we're a family," Miranda replied. "Really. He can stay with Gordon, Ali, Pam, the other Steve, and Sue. They're really nice people."

"King Paul is okay with that?"

"Oh, yeah, Dad loves them all. And he's okay with Angel's thingy. But… he doesn't know I go out." She giggled. "And he also doesn't know that everyone knows Angel's the prince."

Joanne seemed to consider this. "Well… okay. Okay, yes. I'll go. Gosh this is going to be so _fun_ …"

"You bet it is," Angel winked. "We're gonna get you a new name, new clothes, a new face… Oh, yeah, Mimi's an _amazing_ make-up artist. She looks _totally_ different when she goes out, so you don't have to worry about anyone recognizing you!"

"I _am_ pretty good at that…" Miranda said, pulling a dress out of the wardrobe and holding it out. "This one?"

Angel raised an eyebrow. "Okay, but _I'm_ the fashion person." She ran her hands through the rough fabric. "Sugar, I am _so_ glad you never wore this. Oh, but the buttons are _gorgeous_ …"


End file.
